Dirty Girls

by Lily White

  “I need alcohol,” Kendall joked, her ankles rolling as her heels sunk into the dirt, laughter bubbling from her lungs when she grabbed Shea and they both almost fell over. In my opinion, neither of them needed help looking like idiots, but I kept that thought to myself.

  Trailing behind, I ignored the dread that was sitting like a boulder in my stomach and wondered if I could sneak off to puke real quick without being noticed.

  In the distance, the faint glow of bonfires was a halo above the tree line, smoke carrying on the wind that whistled past us on sudden bursts that warned of a storm rolling in. The last thing I needed was to be soaked while trying to navigate my way back to the car. I had school in the morning and couldn’t afford to get sick.

  After a bend to the left, the path opened up to reveal at least fifty bodies milling around several different bonfires, a circle of chairs in the center of the party occupied by the elite guests. Already, people were stumbling and spilling liquor from their red plastic cups while the scent of pot smoke hovered in patchy clouds above their heads.

  Kendall giggled like a mad woman, her level of excitement so close to a squeal that I groaned to realize she’d lost her damn mind the instant Soren Callahan was in sight.

  Two years earlier and I would have silently agreed, but while she focused on the center chairs and the people who occupied them, my gaze drifted to two tall trees sitting silently in front of a massive lake with water black as night.

  A silent specter with dead eyes and limp body hung by her arms giving me shivers even if the scene was imagined. This wasn’t the first time I’d come here since the body was found, but with Soren home, Teagan’s memory felt like it had somehow just come back to life.

  I forced myself to look away, an arm wrapping around mine at the same time, tugging me closer.

  “What the fuck is Maia Forbes doing here?” Kendall hissed the question with enough hatred to slice the skin.

  Wrenching my neck from how fast I turned to stare, my heart sank into my stomach to see Maia dancing on Nolan’s lap.

  Shea bundled close to us, her eyes glued to the circle of chairs. “I thought she skipped town when Teagan died. Guess she came back to try her luck.”

  Teagan, Maia, and two other girls named Elizabeth Maguire and Camilla Hughes, had been a group of the best and brightest at Winter Ridge Prep. They were your typical wealthy up and comers, all cheerleaders who caught the eye of every guy who passed them. Always with Soren and his friends, those four made the lives of every other girl hell, only leaving me alone because Nolan was my brother.

  Maia, Camilla and Elizabeth had practically run out of town after Teagan died, and I couldn’t have been happier about it.

  Kendall shrugged a shoulder.

  “Whatever, it’s not like she’s on Soren’s lap. I think it’s time we show her that shit has changed in the past few years. She’s not the queen of Winter Ridge anymore.”

  Shoved into the open clearing by Kendall, I dutifully walked beside her, not surprised to see the pissed off look on Nolan’s face as soon as he laid eyes on me.

  Maia fell to the ground when he jumped from his seat.

  “Hell no. You are not supposed to be here. All three of you can turn the fuck around and get out.”

  He was marching my direction, most likely to personally escort me back to the car, when Soren jumped in front of him.

  “Give it up, Nolan. You’re not the one that decides who is allowed to be here, remember?”

  “The fuck, Nolan!” Maia stumbled as she tried to pick herself up off the ground. Meanwhile, Kendall and Shea were laughing their asses off to see the bitch queen knocked down.

  I was too busy focusing on the fight that was about to occur between two men standing nose to nose, Soren smiling while my brother was about two seconds from throwing the first punch.

  Not wanting Nolan to get hurt, but also kind of hoping he’d succeed in getting me tossed out, I didn’t miss how the crowd around us huddled closer, everybody’s breath held in anxious anticipation to see how this show would go down.

  Unfortunately for me, and apparently everybody who was excited to see blood spilled, Nolan stepped back, his eyes still narrowed on Soren, but his shoulders withering with defeat like usual.

  “Whatever. She can fucking stay but she’s not pledging.”

  Damn it.

  I was beginning to doubt there would come a day that Nolan ever succeeded in telling Soren to fuck off.

  “She can do whatever she wants.” Soren spoke slowly, his head swiveling over broad shoulders to look my direction. “Little Olly is now my personal guest.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I shot back, “I’m not your personal anything. I’m only here because Kendall and Shea dragged me along.”

  Soren’s eyes shifted to Kendall, and I felt her stand up straighter beside me, her shoulders rolling back as her chest pushed forward.

  “Good to see you again, Kendall. Surprising…but whatever. I’m glad you’re not hiding at your house anymore after last time.”

  His lips stretched into that cocky, bad boy grin that made every woman’s panties melt.

  Unfortunately, despite my intense hatred of him, I couldn’t deny my heart skipped a beat right along with the rest of them.

  Finished with us, he pinned his eyes on Nolan. “We good?”

  Nolan was anything but good, but that didn’t stop him from walking back to his seat and accepting a joint from Quinton who was grinning beside him. He sucked in a lungful of smoke in an effort to calm down.

  Brawl avoided, the loud music filtered back in as the crowd of people dispersed to laugh and gossip in their different groups, the party back in full swing despite the drama.

  “I’m getting a drink. Are you coming with us?”

  Soren was watching me intently as I turned to Kendall. Nodding my head, I took the first step to follow behind her when a hand gripped my arm to stop me.

  “Actually, she’s staying here. You two can bring her back something.”

  My attempt to pull away was useless. Soren had an iron grip, his fingers bruising my skin with how tightly he held me in place.

  When Kendall met my eyes in question, I shot Soren a nasty glare before telling her, “Go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”

  Had we been alone, I would have fought like a rabid dog to get away from him, but with Nolan staring us down practically foaming at the mouth already, I decided not to make another scene for Soren’s wonderstruck admirers.

  “Let me go,” I snapped, my voice kept intentionally low in an effort to avoid Nolan flying off the handle in my defense.

  Soren tugged me closer to him, his head angling down to look at me. “You can pledge if you want to. Don’t let your brother tell you what to do.”

  A bark of laughter burst from my throat.

  “No way in Hell would I be stupid enough to pledge. I have better things to do than wait around and wonder about how you plan to torture me.”

  His grin widened, reminding me of a snake coiled and ready to strike. “You wouldn’t be waiting that long. Trust me.”

  Finally able to yank my arm from his grip, I stepped back while holding his dark stare.

  “It’s not happening. I didn’t want to come tonight, but shit happened and here I am.”

  “Here you are,” he answered.

  Shrugging a shoulder, he lifted his eyes to look over the clearing, the dancing flames of the bonfires reflected in the dark color. Without looking back at me, he mused, “I have a feeling you’ll change your mind.”

  “Do me a favor and hold your breath for that to happen.”

  When his gaze met mine again, he was smiling, amusement obvious in his expression.

  Sadly, I was actually interested in what he had to say next, but we were interrupted by Kendall and Shea, a red cup pressed against my hand, full of what, I didn’t know.

  “Drink up, bitch.”

  Soren didn’t bother to give them a passing glance before returning to his
seat near the bonfire. By that time, Maia had set her sights on him. Shooting Nolan a scowl that he was too pissed off to notice, Maia began dancing in front of Soren’s spread legs while I took the first sip from my cup.

  It was like drinking gasoline, my eyes widening as my nostrils flared, but I swallowed the crap down regardless. Being sober for the rest of the night would be torture compared to the blessed numbness a little alcohol could provide me.

  Fuck this shit, I thought.

  Fuck this night.

  I counted down the slow crawl of hours I would have to endure this before I could grab my friends and get out.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Jonah

  Standing at the end of the driveway leading to a large Victorian house that stood stark against the starlit night, it occurred to me that I hadn’t been home in two long years, not since the last time I took time off to handle one of Calvin’s episodes.

  The memory assaulted me now. Worry and panic causing my mother’s voice to shake when she called, her tone of voice tense with the knowledge that her body was weakening with every day and she wouldn’t be able to care for him much longer.

  In those months, I’d taken care to compile a team not only to assist Calvin with the family business, but also to watch out for him when our mother passed, the money spent not an issue if it meant I could return to my work on the east coast without feeling guilt for leaving my brother alone.

  My breath blew out on a burst of hot air, my eyes scanning the large house that sat in the center of the yard. On each side, two identical buildings were closed down for the night. One housed the reception hall, while Elaine Lewis used the other as a living space when she was helping Calvin run the family funeral home.

  Growing up, I’d often questioned a life lived atop the dead, but it was my mother’s career to prepare them for burial while my father worked long hours as a cop for the Winter Ridge Police Department.

  While I had followed in my father’s heavy footsteps, my older brother Calvin had chased after my mother’s.

  Given his condition, I wasn’t sure his choice of career was the best influence, but I couldn’t argue that he wasn’t damn good at his job.

  Approaching the house, I listened to the crunch of leaves under my feet, each step carrying me closer to a large wrap around porch and a set of heavy double doors that creaked when opened. It was an appropriate sound adding to the atmosphere of death and decay and the silence of still, lifeless bodies.

  No lights were on, but that didn’t mean Calvin was sleeping. I wove my way through a maze of halls, entering a large kitchen where the door to the basement could be found.

  Stepping down the narrow stairs, I heard the low hum of two large freezers while breathing in the familiar scent of chemicals used to preserve dead bodies.

  I reached the bottom and turned to see Calvin standing over a middle-aged woman, his attention captured by the effort it took to transform the grey sheen of death into something that resembled the living.

  “Welcome home,” he called out to me without lifting his eyes.

  “You knew I was coming.” Not a question as much as a statement.

  Nodding, he brushed back the woman’s silver streaked hair, applying hairspray to hold it in place. “Elaine told me.”

  I didn’t respond. It was better to let Calvin speak without prodding him if you wanted to learn what was in his head.

  The blades of a slow moving ceiling fan rotated above us, the whir of its motor barely discernible over the constant, quiet sorrow that this basement always held.

  “Maria Jacobs died at forty-eight years old. It’s not typical for life to end so young, but she had skin cancer that ate away at her face.”

  Calvin glanced up at me.

  “I was able to fill in the holes with wax. They won’t know how extensive the damage was when they look at her.”

  Glancing down at the body, I was impressed with Calvin’s skill at transforming a woman I knew was mottled and discolored into one that looked like she was simply taking a restful nap.

  “I can’t tell there was any damage.”

  “Of course not,” Calvin answered with confidence in his tone. “She’ll be pretty when they put her in the ground.”

  Nodding, I watched as he finished her hair and began the task of applying more makeup to her face. Several minutes passed before I broke the silence between us.

  “Do you know why I’m here?”

  His hands moved quickly to slather on a paste of heavy foundation over her skin. “You’re here about Teagan McKay.”

  “Do you remember her?”

  He looked up with wide grey eyes that matched mine, his dark hair cut short while I left mine a little long.

  “I remember all of them. Someone has to. I liked Teagan. She was nice.”

  It would disturb most people to realize that when Calvin spoke of his impressions of those he met, he was speaking of how he knew them in death without having known them in life.

  My brother wasn’t the type to leave the house or socialize with anybody beyond those few who cared for him or helped with the funeral home. The only friends he had were the bodies he prepared, his mind working in such a way that he imagined they spoke to him while lying on his table.

  “Do you remember anything about her body, Calvin? Any marks or other features that were unusual?”

  With his attention returned to applying more makeup to the dead woman’s face, he didn’t immediately answer. Most would assume he hadn’t heard the question, but I knew he was taking his time to shuffle through his memory to provide as complete of an answer as he could.

  Speaking slowly, Calvin told me what he remembered, his mind’s eye staring into the past.

  “She was clean when they brought her, but before that she had been dirty. I had to fill in the place where her skull was crushed in, make it natural enough that her hair laid flat. That was hard because her hair was short and didn’t touch her shoulders. It wasn’t a professional cut. Someone had hacked it off.”

  Noting that bit of information, I thought over what I read in the file and realized I didn’t recall seeing mention of her hair.

  “The medical examiner did a bad job of cleaning the makeup off her face, so I had to do that before applying more. There was a lot of bruising on her cheek. It took some time to cover it up.”

  Shoulders relaxing, Calvin looked up, sorrow written into his expression.

  “They didn’t want to see her. All my work, and the funeral was closed casket. Her family didn’t want to say goodbye properly. It was disappointing. I made her pretty anyway, so she wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

  Rolling my head over my shoulders, I attempted to ease sore muscles from a day spent driving from place to place.

  “Was there anything else? Possible details the medical examiner would have missed?”

  Calvin shook his head and went back to preparing the body.

  “Ligature marks on her wrists, but she had been hanging. Her skin was sallow from the blood pooling at her feet. That was normal. Abrasions on her knees and hands, more on the back of her heels. I think because she was dragged.”

  Pausing, he closed his eyes, his hands stilling over Maria’s body. After a few seconds, he finished his thoughts.

  “Nothing more than that.”

  Back to the present, Calvin returned to the task at hand, not bothering to glance up at me before doing so.

  It wasn’t much to go on, but the hair was a potential detail Simon had missed. “Thank you, Calvin.”

  Nodding, he asked, “Are you staying at the house while you’re in town?”

  “Off and on, yes. I’ll be working a lot.”

  Another nod. “I’ll see you later then.”

  I walked back to the stairs and gripped the banister to go up, but something Calvin had said stopped me in place.

  Turning my head to glance over at him, I asked, “Why did you say Teagan had been dirty before they brought her to you? All the photos and medical
records indicated that her body had been washed prior to being displayed.”

  Eyes scanning Maria’s body, Calvin reached to smooth something on her skin. “They’re all dirty in Winter Ridge, Jonah.” Head lifting, his eyes met mine. “Isn’t that what dad told us?”

  My hand gripped the banister, the skin over my fingers red with trapped blood. In many ways, I blamed my parents for Calvin’s issues, the lack of care they’d taken with a child whose brain wasn’t developing like it should.

  “He did,” I finally answered, knowing that to deny what he said would only cause confusion in his head. It could lead to a possible meltdown.

  Turning to quickly climb the stairs, I was halfway up when Calvin raised his voice to be heard.

  “I expect more of them, Jonah. I have been since Teagan showed up. She never wanted to be alone.”

  Exhaling heavily, I climbed the remaining stairs and strode into the kitchen, concerned that, despite the oddity of Calvin’s statement, he wasn’t wrong.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Olive

  Forty-five minutes after arriving at the party, Kendall and Shea were already stumbling over themselves with their drinks sloshing to the ground.

  I tried to stay close to them while nursing whatever swill they’d handed me, taking my time to drink it. As long as I had the first cup in my hand, they wouldn’t attempt to grab me a second one.

  Whatever this crap was, it was awful, but worse than that, three sips already had given me a warm buzz. I was worried drinking any more would leave me without enough to sense to continue monitoring the situation and staying as far away as possible from Soren.

  Not that I had too much to worry about. He’d forgotten all about me around the same time that Maia had climbed on his lap, her shirt sliding a little too low off her shoulder to be considered decent.

  Wondering how long it would take for her to give up modesty entirely and fuck them all in front of the fire, I continued following after my friends, smiling politely at people they talked to, and only speaking when spoken to.

  In truth, I hated pretty much everybody who was attending this nightmare, disbelief thick when I understood that just about all of them were planning on pledging.